And then I
by 00000009
Summary: Rust has bitten a white constellation from the false sky. Old metal. Can't be much protection for the engines. She gasps. I turn, cement against my cheek, to watch. She is on her knees; one palm on the ground. Her other hand grips the pen...A backstory of the scenes between when Haruka is awakened in the garage and we are first introduced to the 2 mysterious soldiers.
1. Chapter 1

**Soshite… Bokuwa…**

Rust has bitten a white constellation from the false sky. Old metal. Can't be much protection for the engines.

She gasps. I turn, cement against my cheek, to watch. She is on her knees; one palm on the ground. Her other hand grips the pen.

Wand.

Doesn't matter.

It is done, then.

I don't want to watch anymore. The ceiling is high, corrugated iron, pierced in places to let the white sky inside. _The longer you breathe, the more normal it becomes._ I was in classes just a few hours ago. In the studio we were being lectured on the influence of the church on Italian Renaissance painting. _The Virgin Mary was so good, was so beautiful on the inside, that it couldn't help but be exhibited on the outside._

Such a foolish belief. I longed for the Pre-Raphaelites.

I am on my back like Ophelia drowning. I am pulled downstream like the lady of Shalot.

I hear her breathing catch again.

I have been Eve with a shiny object.

I have been the Pandora of her mind.

The blood from my arm is pooling on the floor. I expect it will appear as a rust stain in time. This sin will be hidden in plain sight. There are voices outside. She will have to catch herself. I cannot stay.

I manage to stand. She doesn't look over.

But we will meet again.

_And down the river's dim expanse_

_Like some bold seer in a trance,_

_Seeing all his own mischance_

_With glassy countenance_

_Did she look to Camelot._

_And at the closing of the day_

_She loosed the chain, and down she lay;_

_The broad stream bore her far away,_

_The Lady of Shalott._

The cluster as the gates is more abuzz than usual. I don't enjoy passing through crowds like this. Their chatter and jostling and oblivious enthusiasm. Perhaps this is jealousy? Is jealousy a subset of isolation?

"Yo!" A voice comes out across the rest. "Kaioh-san!"

It is her. A head above the surrounding girls.

"Good afternoon," I nod, mindful of the querulous attention from my fellow students. A group of about eight. Girls. Moth-like.

"Your school isn't in this neighbourhood," I watch her, "I think?"

"Yeah. Not so much. I was just meeting your classmates. Did you know Yuki-chan made a whole extra lunch today?"

"How generous of her." I respond. Yukino Saito narrows her eyes a fraction.

Tenoh pops a diminutive piece of hosomaki into her mouth and chews beatifically.

"So good!" She enthuses "Oh cute! The tuna looks like little hearts. See?" She picks up another piece and inclines it in demonstration. "Want some."

"Thank you, no." I notice the girls have several copies of a magazines between them. Tenoh's photo is on the cover. Another from the crowd asks, it a little cautiously.

"You're a racing fan too, Kaioh-san?"

"Oh?" Tenoh interjects. "You guys don't know each other?"

"I mean… kind of." Yukino answers avoiding my eye.

"Yukino-san and I share the same period for music," I answer, "She is a very talented flautist."

"Get out!" Tenoh beams. "You'll have to play for me sometime. Anyway," She returns the mostly untouched bento to Yukino's hands, "it'll have to be later. I need to borrow your friend for a moment."

The "friend" is me.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"Haru-kun!"

"Are you going to the track? Can we come too?"

Tenoh steps out to stand beside me, pulls an arm around my waist, and addresses her collection of "racing" fans.

"Not the track." She answers. "I've made her a promise."

And we leave.

We walk along the summer sidewalk. Once the corner has been rounded her hand drops away.

"Quite a show," I say quietly, "I'm not sure I want to face them tomorrow."

"Eh? That's nothing. They just think I'm a guy."

"You don't set them straight."

"How would it help?"

"I don't know."

She keeps her pace, seems intent on a direction. The subway is my guess.

"I didn't sleep last night." She says finally.

"Nor did I."

"I couldn't stop thinking about the boy."

"I understand."

"Yeah, you…" she begins brightly then looks into the middle distance. I see nothing. "How long have you been doing this on your own?" she asks.

"This? Oh, thousands of years I suppose."

"…you're not serious…?"

"Not always." I sigh. "I think my visions began , perhaps nine years ago? But the fighting, that has only been this year. For a while I thought I could manage it alone. I was almost relieved when those nightmares turned out to be real. Is that strange?"

"A bit."

"I thought I might be losing my mind."

"So you never talked to anyone?"

"You're the first."

She nods to this and keeps quiet a while. As though it needed swallowing. It seems unbearable.

"And for you, when did the visions begin?"

"Me? I guess just this year? I must be a late bloomer."

"So you saw… the monsters?"

"No. I saw the city, the people, crumbling. There was a crimson wind. And I saw you."

_I am the monster._

We wait at an intersection and are joined by a cluster of pedestrians; cyclists, businessmen, other students. Some flap at the heat with fans. Some are bowed, absorbed by their phone screens.

"I've booked us on a school tour." Tenoh speaks nodding in the direction of the subway. I'd take my car, but it'll be faster this way. "I hope you have good grades."

On the train she hands me her phone as evidence of her "research" on the boy in the garage. I try not to react to the irksome message trail shared with a phone contact entitled "Sachi-chan 3 3"

_On a scale of 10 to 10, how good would I look in a green uniform?_

_ Like your eyes?heart eyes emoji_

_Like plaid. With a tie ;)_

_ I know that one! student prospectus image_

_So where should I enrol? You'll come too, right?_

_ "Mugen Academy. It's a new one. I'd never get in! You'd better study hard!"_

_ "I'll do my best. So should you. Don't leave me alone."_

I hand back the phone and hunt out evidence of shame in her expression. None.

"You may need to be more subtle in your research methods."

"Oh, I'm great at secrets." She declares loudly. Two fellow commuters look up. "Are your grades OK?"

"Impeccable." I murmur.

"Really?" She laughs. "_All_ of them? Even math?"

"Naturally."

"Science."

"Ranked in the top 10."

"…Phys ed?"

"Yes. I have been invited to compete in the regionals for the 100m freestyle."

"Get out."

"I declined the invitation."

The entrance hall is dramatic. One might expect an opera to be hosted onsite. There are large posters of Waterhouse paintings. The school has ambitions to send a delegation of the top fine arts students to Europe. A nice thought.

"Who's she?" Tenoh nods to the Lady of Shallot. "You've been staring a while."

"A tragic figure," I answer, "she was cursed to fall in love with love with a knight who was perfectly unaware. Lancelot."

"Ah, that guy! The lady's man, right?"

"Mm."

"Welcome, guests." The guide bows deeply. "We hope you will enjoy our institution. I am aware we have some rising stars in attendance today. That is precisely the calibre Mugen intends to attract. You are very welcome indeed."

As if on cue a shaft of light falls through a window to the sky to dramatic effect.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, one of the apartments at Tennozu Isle? They don't come cheap, you know."

My stepfather and I are standing in the premiere box looking out across the vacant speedway for which his company had recently acquired naming rights. Cheap. Whatever.

"Don't ask, don't get." I answer.

"I know." He exhales a line of smoke. "That's the thing. You never ask!" That he is amused is probably a good sign, but it's getting on my nerves.

"So I'm asking." I shrug. "It's close to the school, and they're all about letting students out to pursue "big, important hobbies" so I can keep up at the track."

"Sounds good."

"I know."

"Honestly, I'm surprised by your planning."

"I know."

"You're just hoping I tell your mother, right?"

I sigh. "Can I have one of those?"

"A cigarette?"

"Cheaper than an apartment."

"If I say no, you'll just ask one of the crew."

"I know."

"Fine." He extends the box. "They smoke awful stuff. If you're going to kill yourself at least do it in style."

"Cool life advice." I light it and inhale. My throat closes and my eyes water. Stylishly.

"Mugen Academy." He nods slowly. "You should be proud of passing that entrance exam."

I cough in response.

"What can I say? It sounds like a great opportunity. It's no time to quit racing… But that will be your first and last cigarette."

"…yeah." I manage.

He starts walking for the stairs. Meeting done, I guess.

"Maybe you'll tell me sometime what the Kaioh daughter is doing hanging around the circuit."

"Eh? I don't think I've seen – "

"Sure. I'll sort some keys. Good talk. Get back to the gym. Those lungs aren't going to fix themselves."

I don't know why my mother went for such a douche. She'd always had enough money. Hard to be sure if my actual father would have been better. I mean, he wasn't here so by default, not great. Bring up the topic of my Dad and there's always all this talk of a guy with promise, taken too soon. How sad. Let's be real. He can't have been _that good_ on a motorcycle if he couldn't keep himself alive.

I have a picture of him anyway.

He has a dorky German-style helmet. He's sitting me up by the handlebars and I'm looking kind of intense for a none-year old and he's grinning like he's won something. I fit his jacket now. It's old and busted but, y'know, his arms went in it, my arms go in it, I can hug my knees when the dreams get too intense and I can imagine… y'know.

Kaioh is early and I am late. She tries to hide her irritation, but her mask drops by the day. Guess she's tired too.

"I think the activity is centred around Mita, close to the municipal gym." She starts moving as soon as I get to her.

"Will that be our local when we move?"

"I think the academy has better facilities." She calls back, grabbing her pen, breaking into a run towards an unpopulated alley. I follow.

It's a rush. All of it. We leap fire escapes to the fifth floor. My legs burn. Through the window it's easy to make out the man – looks to be a gym employee – pressed against the mirrors in an empty studio. Empty but for the creature. I move to the door. Kaioh's – _Neptune's_ – grip is tight on my upper arm. Stronger than I thought.

"Wait." She breathes.

The creature, reminiscent of the garage fiend, rounds on the guy. His eyes bulge. He is too terrified to call out. My heart hammers.

"Forget it." I throw off her arm and push into the room.

"Uranus!"

Electricity crackles from my feet. I raise my arm to the sky and call out, pulling energy from the earth to my fingertips. I close my fist. I pull golden light into a concentrated orb and punch the ground. I don't miss. The creature arches back, paralysed. I run for the man, collect him in my arms and jump for the safety of a nearby rooftop. We land close to a fire escape. In the distance I hear Neptune's attack. It is followed by the creature's death cry. Unmistakable. I get the man's attention and nod toward the door to the lower floors. He scrambles from me.

I return to the building were Neptune is bent at the waist, her hands on her knees.

"You Okay?" I breathe. "Toasted the monster?" I already knew.

"Idiot!" She looks up, launches on me, pounding at my chest.

"Ow! Geez." I have to snatch her wrists to save myself from her knuckles. She won't give. "That hurts. I _am_ actually a girl, y'know?"

"Yes, I know!" she struggles. "If you weren't, I would've kneed you – "

"Whoa, OK! OK, I get it."

She calms down. I tentatively release her arms, keeping mine raised in the traditional pose of surrender.

She hits me, hard, one last time and leans against a wall looking at the sky.

I wince and rub my left breast.

"You can't interrupt that early." She says sharply. "He might have been a holder."

"Seriously? I didn't feel anything special about the guy."

"And _you're_ attuned?"

"…I mean… I'm learning."

"You're learning." She repeats more softly, looking at me. Then she closes her eyes. The uniform of Neptune fades away and her school uniform returns in its place. It feels wrong to see her figure. My cheeks burn. I look away and concentrate on my black uniform and the comfort of a high collared jacked, low-heeled shoes and long, loose pants.

"If he's the real deal they're gonna chase him down, aren't they? Otherwise no point letting this chump wet himself while some kinda fang-faced worm messes with his, whatever – "

"Heart crystal." She provides.

"Right. That."

She really does look depleted. Disappointed.

"Look. I'm sorry, Kaioh-san. You look… let me buy you some tea?"

"Tea?"

"Café a block over. 12 floors up. Good view of the park. My Mom likes it, so…"

"So…?"

"So I'm sure a girl of your calibre would find it passable?" I extend my hand and raise an eyebrow. Usually works.

She signs. "I'm sorry for hitting you."

"Are you?"

"Well, no, not really." She smoothes a lock of hair behind her ear. "But it sounds like the sort of thing a girl of my calibre should say." She smiles, cocking her head.

Touché.

We are led to a window seat. It has passed the rush hour but there is no afternoon closure.

"So good of you to stay open,' I say to the waitress, "you must be exhausted after your shift. My friend and I appreciate it."

She leaves, instructed to return with something French. Let's be real. I'm pretty ambivalent about tea. Kaioh looks bemused.

"If we're going to maintain a fictional relationship, keeping me in on the ruse might assist in the deception?"

"What deception?"

"You present one thing to my classmates – "

"They won't be your classmates for long – "

"– and now we're "friends" to this hostess?"

"I mean… aren't we?"

Kaioh is hard to read. She laces her fingers and looks out the window.

"Do you have any recollection of our past lives?"

"Hmm? Nah. No, nothing. You?"

The waitress returns to lay out napkins and teaspoons, apologising as she does.

"I do." Kaioh smiles enigmatically.

A teapot is placed between us. It emits curling steam. She looks briefly like a fortune-teller.

"So what?" I ask. "Did we know each other then? Were we like at each other's throats, all on-top of each other?"

"On top?" Her eyes widen. She's stifling a laugh. Strange girl.

It's cute, but I don't get it.

"Can I pour you a cup of the Mariage Frères, Tenoh-san?"

"Sure." I shrug. "And 'Haruka' is fine."

"Quite." She answers, tipping the delicate china.


	3. Chapter 3

Crimson beads and jade stones tremble and fall through my fingers.

"Lastly, a violin of Italian origin, formerly belonging to your grandfather, now gifted by his late wife."

I look up to the instrument being presented and its a rich red tone. How long has it been waiting?

I snap shut the jewellery box in my lap and stand. "It will be prepared for this evening?" Some questions are not questions at all.

"Already done." The man hesitates. He quirks his eyebrows, betraying his nerves. "What might this evening hold, Miss?"

"My parents are determined to forgo the traditional stages of grief and host a function in its place. I believe there is a trust to be set up. Scholarships and the like. To help young women in the arts."

"Ah. A legacy. Very powerful."

"Yes." I sigh, gathering my new acquisitions. "Yes, that is what they like to convey."

The man clears his throat, bobbing his head. His eyebrows twitch once more. I recognise that he seeks to provide some words to undo the disturbance in the air. Words will not mend this. No words or power.

"Were you not due to visit with my cousin?" Some questions are not questions at all.

Haruka and I have determined that this evening's event may draw out persons of interest. Or creatures. The idea twists my stomach. I have felt too heartsick to eat for the best part of the week. This place at this time and I am calculating my next move?

Just the same as everyone else.

The man with his list of artefacts to be disseminated leaves. The door creaks closed and the room falls into greater shadow. I have been thinking about loss. I bend to kneel on the floorboards (better acoustics in baron rooms). I have been thinking about the ripples of a life, the magnitude of sadness. And now? Now I am devastated. My neck curls. No one will observe my head in my hands, the shaking of my shoulders, the tears that come and come and come. _This_ is silence. This is absence. This is the room where my Grandmother turned musty pages of sheet music at an old piano and laughed uproariously at odd notes.

_Surprising they hadn't caught the diagnosis sooner._

This is where the sun caught in dusty streams in the afternoons spent without parents, when she would make the long journey up the stairs to sit and tap along.

_She disappeared by increments, sense falling faster by the week, the day, the hour._

Where she sang with the breath in her lungs and light in her eyes.

_So many machines, so many professionals, not one of them with a solution._

This was where I fell in love with music. This was where there was love.

X

I choose a dress in black velvet and wear a gold hairpin that is now mine. My mother, from her expression, would prefer the dress recently gifted by a talented designer. More of a statement, and that statement had nothing to do with loss. She is too preoccupied to press the issue.

I feel slightly dizzy and escape to a private lounge while the caterers and florists and technicians are buzzing to and fro. I find myself wishing for my colleague's presence. _My partner in crime_, I suppose they say. Is it a crime? Will it be? We have both taken turns in the role of the advocate: _of course it's the right thing to do! Hesitation could mean annihilation. _Or something along the lines of: _we don't have time to indulge our feelings. Just fight! No one wants your empathy!_

I fear I was tired at that last time. I am too hard on her. Too often. When she was with me in the garage that day, when she gathered me for that moment, I was dismayed to see the concern in her eyes. This was not the soulless assassin I needed. This girl had a heart to break. True as the sun. Perhaps that was why she attracted the attention of so many classmates? That tendency to gaze for a little too long?

I sit back in the armchair and look at the details of the ceiling. The antique chandelier, the plaster moulding of geometric and floral design. What was the story of their selection? I feel like I could cry again.

There is a nervous peep at the door. One of the new maids all but whispers: "Your guest, Mr Tenoh, Miss?" Some questions are not questions.

Haruka is wearing entirely black and holding out a luxurious bouquet spilling over with white lilies. The white of empty sheets. White of bloodless spirits.

"You should smell these before they are hurried out of sight." She smiles.

I stand and comply, inclining my face toward the flowers.

"They are beautiful, thank you." I kiss her cheek. "Would you arrange for a vase and take these to my room?" I direct the attendant, who leaves at once.

The door closes.

Haruka is rubs her face and stalks around the lounge like an uninvited cat.

"This sectioned off from the public?" She asks.

"'Public' is not how I would term tonight's invitees."

"I'm honoured." She smiles, then approaches, touching my shoulder. "You sure you want to do this?"

It's like waking up from a trance; the hypnotist snaps her fingers, vivid reality floods in. I must not – _cannot_ – cry in front of her.

"Wanting doesn't come into it, does it?" I pat her hand. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

She flushed a little, stepped back, walked over to sit by the window. "Y'know, when I first realised what we had to do, I thought, Damn! This is like, always _on. _We're _always on call._ What if I catch a cold?"

I find myself smiling. She runs her hand through her fringe frustratedly.

"Like, I can't just send a sick note. _Sorry, can't fight evil today_."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd coerce some poor girl to nurse you back to health."

"Yeah." She laughed. "With the right pyjamas?"

"Depending on the girl."

"Right – anyway – it made me think of this friend I was chatting with…"

"Friend?"

"Friend, yeah, helps me with Physics homework, you don't know her. I think. She told me that her sister – she's finished college now – she has just had a baby and it's basically turned her into a zombie."

"…zombie?"

"Yes! Because she's always _on_. She and her boyfriend. They have this new thing and they have to watch it and feed it and, like, clean it and keep it alive _or else_. No time out. No sick notes."

"…I see."

"Do you?"

"You're analogising the responsibility of two parents for a _single_ new-born with our duty to protect the world."

"Yeah. The world is our baby." She inhales deeply. "And I'm a terrible parent and you need to take a week off for mental health."

I laugh. A quiet shudder that turns audible.

"Case in point." She gestures in my direction.

I gather myself and dab my eyes. "Thank you, Haruka. I can't imagine… co-parenting… _The Planet Earth_…" I burst out laughing again. I must be exhausted. My stomach muscles burn. My eyes stream. I take in air in little sips. I regain composure. "I can't imagine doing it with anyone else."

X

We move separately for most of the evening. I remind myself at times to stop training eyes on her and focus on the vulnerabilities in the crowd. I just _don't_ sense anything. Her energy is different in the room. I'm not sure if that holds any significance or if I have diminished ability.

The time comes and I play the violin to the hushed surrounds. I close my eyes. The instrument is so sweet and low that it's hard to bear. It isn't unusual for an audience to look on at a musician with a look of fixed sadness. I have done it myself at some concerts. But I can feel the weight of their thoughts without reading it on their faces. _She was the granddaughter, isn't it? Weren't they close? Why does she stand there now? How is she coping?_ I don't want to accidentally expend my energy on the feelings of strangers right now. This piece will appease my parents, will let them focus on their project, let them feel control when they need to.

They don't know how little they truly control at all. I am my parent's daughter and a daughter of Neptune. I belong and will never belong at all. I once had someone to hold me to this world and now?

The piece finishes. I move slowly and bow to polite applause and look up. And there is Haruka, looking in that way she does.


	4. Chapter 4

A waiter in a velvet jacket with satin labels passed with half a tray of expensive-looking sashimi. Each was artfully cut into mouthful-sizes on Chinese spoons.

"Sir?" he offered.

"Thanks." I took the entire tray from his hands, too quickly for him to conjure a polite objection. I strode for the doors to the balcony, opened one with my back (waiter-style), bowed to the server and turned into the night.

"Madam?" I asked, approaching her back. Her hair was arranged to expose her neck, alabaster in the moonlight, almost other-worldly in against the black of her dress and the darkened sky.

Michiru turned, smiled artificially (I had come to recognise the real from the fake) and shook her head. "I'm not hungry. Thank you though."

"I know." I said, leaning against the balustrade. "But you're thin. Thinner than usual. And you love this stuff"

I inclined the tray to catch the limited light.

"You sound like one of my nurse maids from childhood."

"Sure." I laughed. "I mean I can make an aeroplane sound to make you open your mouth or…" I picked up a spoon containing – tuna maybe? – and inched it towards her lips.

"Haruka, I…"

Got it. The spoon went in.

"Hrmm." She took a moment to chew and closed her eyes to swallow annoyedly.

"I'm not a child."

"No. But you're someone's child… And grandchild."

"Was."

"Are. You're allowed to still say are."

"Am I?" She looked out to the illuminated features of the garden. A sort of Italian style, I would guess. Twisting topiaries made two surreal queues alongside the driveway to the main entrance. Nice. Nicer than the more corporate style of the landscaping of my family home.

"Have one of these." I pointed to something that looked like it had roe on it. "They're my favourite."

"Liar."

"_Please_ eat."

She gave me a particularly threatening look then – astoundingly – she complied. I set the tray down and picked up a spoon that looked vaguely familiar. Salmon. Cool.

"I wasn't such an easy kid as you were, I'm guessing. My mother gave up on nannies pretty early on."

She smiled. A real one. Good. Good sign.

"I suspect my caregivers wouldn't describe me as 'easy'" she countered.

"Polite, then."

"Yes." She said. "If nothing else."

"It's a solid foundation." I said. "I tended to follow the butlers around when they let me. Then the gardener after my Dad died and - "

"What?"

"Well the gardener had access to the sheds and – "

She was staring at me, her eyes almost fearful or…? It was that same look that she had in the garage …with the monster. It threw me. Sent me back to that moment. Raw flesh, raw words. They had kept me up at night. If I was honest, it wasn't just because of the task I had accepted. If I was honest…

"Oh Haruka, I'm so sorry!" She wrapped her arms around me and pushed her head against my chest. I held my breath, feeling my pulse harder than usual. I felt the tremor of her back and held her in return, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay." I tried.

Her back spasmed. I couldn't quite hear the sobs.

"When you've lost someone. It's just…It doesn't go away, but it halves and halves, y'know? Like Uranium."

We remained that way for a moment. Just when I thought the crying had ended, I felt the tensing again. But faster. Then she pulled back. She was laughing!

"What?"

"What do you mean…? Did you just…?"

"Just what?" She really must have needed food. Close to delirious.

"Did you just compare the grieving process to the breakdown of nuclear waste…?"

She began laughing again and braced herself against the balustrade. I watched the garden and ate a weird and expensive sea creature from a Chinese spoon.

"Yep." I said finally. "It was my advice from the gardener. He had grandparents in Nagasaki so…"

"Oh God," she stopped suddenly, "That's terrible… I don't mean to… Oh God…" She shook her head, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just that I had assumed that the man at the track was your father. I never knew. My situation seems so trivial – "

"It's not." I interrupted, more for my benefit than hers. She seemed to be flailing and I wasn't used to it. "Everyone – anyone – can be significant. Deeply significant. It's what makes our job is so difficult."

"Yes." She said watching me intently.

X

"No! No. No way. Absolutely not!"

I stood in the hallway as my mother raged. My stepfather was impotently off to the side holding two glasses of wine. Hers was close to finished. He was catching up, occasionally sending me sheepish looks.

"It's already settled." I said.

"I don't care. And you don't get to 'settle' things independently. You are a child!"

"I'm sixteen. I'm going to Mugen. It doesn't make sense to – "

"What do imagine I'll tell people?"

"Huh?"

"Do you have any idea what it's like – Oh, sure some of them – some of those _colleagues_ – " the word was directed at my stepfather – "they may be under the impression that you're a young _man_ _ \- _but I am still connected to people who know – who are well aware – that you are no such thing! They see you in those ridiculous suits. Suits! My only daughter dressed like a… a…

"Man?" I offered.

"Deviant!" she countered. Huh? New one.

"An aberrant… footman…!"

I couldn't help it. I started laughing. My stepfather smiled too. My mother continued, unphased.

"They say to me, you know, how 'brave' you are in your fashion sense. They're just laughing! Do have any idea how _ashamed_…!" her voice broke then. She turned away. We all fell silent. I swallowed.

_Some idea_, I thought, _yeah, I had some idea_.

"You just can't be normal, can you?"

I looked at the floor, then back at her, then to the floor again. I shook my head.

"And spending time with the Kaioh daughter now?"

I shot a look to my stepfather who avoided my gaze.

"Look, that's just – we're just friends, OK?"

"Oh friends? _Friends_? Really? A nice girl like that? Haruka, that's not a scandal – that's a law suit!"

"Jesus!" I interrupted. "I get it, OK. I get it, but this is happening! I'm out. Take it or leave it, but I'm leaving – " I gestured incoherently at the space before me – "This!"

"Well I'm not making up any more stories to excuse your behaviour! If you leave it's final. You don't come back here."

I breathed. That was a new one too. I breathed. It was going to happen at one point or another but I hadn't thought – my mother took her wine, pushed past my stepfather and left in the direction of her room. There was a slam.

Neither of us followed.

"I'll get someone in operations to deliver the remainder of your boxes." He said quietly, making (what I assume was) an attempt at a kind smile. "You know she doesn't mean all of that."

"Doesn't matter either way." I lied. I knew at least that anything he said wasn't going to matter.

"I'll give you a lift." He jingled his keys.

"Got my bike." I answered.

"Oh. OK…" He was uncommonly tongue-tied. "Look, you know it'll be a matter of days and she'll be asking me to convey her invitation for you play the piano at the next soiree… you know how she is."

"Sure." I said, turned to the door. "I appreciate the help."

Goodbye, hallway, I thought, goodbye jacket hooks and shoe shelf.

"Haruka, are you OK… to ride?"

I didn't look back. "Yes."

X

The apartment was large. My ribs were bruised. The latest enemy engagement had been only moderately more successful than the last. Michiru had swung between absently melancholic and palpably furious over the last week. I felt tired. Tired of myself and tired of her.

_I am bringing in ice._ Said the message on my phone.

_Why? _I responded to the sender saved as 'HRH Kaioh'.

_You're no use to me if you slow down._

_Heard that before._ From my stepfather.

_10 minutes._

I winced at the thought of ice burn. Was tidying up the right thing to do? Never mind. I didn't want to stand. My knee hurt. My ribs hurt. My pride hurt. The fall had been a pretty direct result of _not doing_ as told and colliding with an attack. And a wall. It was frustrating that on top of _every other damn thing_… well, I had at least expected to be superior in matters physical. Perhaps tactical matters were still a work in progress.

The door opened.

"You have no curtains." Michiru stated by way of greeting, slipping off her shoes.

"So? Who's going to look in? Helicopters?"

She ignored the solid logic and turned to the kitchen area. "Or a fridge."

"Hmm." I got to my feet. "I'll get one later. Thanks for the ice."

"You know, if you'd stayed with your parents, they could provide back-up for these kinds of injuries."

"Their place is an hour out of the centre. It wasn't going to work out anyway." I took the frosted bag, hobbled to the sink and dumped it, annoyance rising. "Thanks for this, I'll be sure to…"

"Do you have a dishcloth?"

"For what?"

"Well, the ordinary use comes to mind. For present purposes something to wrap around the ice before applying it to skin."

"I've got towels."

"Where?"

"The floor." I folded my arms. "Seriously. I can take it from here."

"_Really?_"

"Really."

"Because that _seriously_ hasn't been my experience thus far."

"_Jesus_. Can you just give me some space?"

"Actually, no. I've just transported two and a half kilograms of melting ice from two blocks and innumerable floors to the top of this ridiculous tower. Look at my blouse!"

The blouse in question displayed three small watermarks in the chest area.

"Appalling." I rolled my eyes.

"Quite." She stalked off in the direction of my bathroom. "These towels had better be clean."

"I used them on me and I was clean!" I made my way over to the window and sat at the ledge, wincing. The sea surrounding Tenno-zu island was sparkling in the afternoon summer with an optimism I couldn't muster. The trains from the mainland flashed white. People in holiday sunhats would be heading for festivals at the port.

It had only been that morning that the piano – the one that she would surely be invited to play at one day soon – had been delivered to the apartment without advance notice. I had been at a loss when asked 'where would you like it?' Space was abundant. The echo would be brilliant.

I blinked in the light. Michiru did not hide her displeasure at the cleanliness of the hand towel she had procured.

"If we do this, then you leave?" I asked.

"I feel so appreciated." She said darkly. "Are you going to roll up your trouser leg?"

"Yes." I leant forward and winced at the feeling.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Knee."

"Not your knee, let me see."

"Give me – "

"No."

"_Haru_ – shit!" She pulled up the side of my shirt to show the area where my ribs were ripening to a nice shade of purple. "God! Were you going to mention this? You might need – God! Why can't you just be _normal_ and stay with your _parents_ and – "

"Just get _off_ me will you?" I threw her hands away. "Get out and worry about yourself! Don't you have anything better to do? No friends? Jeez! I can't imagine why not – _Aagh!_" The ice was thrust against my side. "_Ice queen!"_

"Yes! Fine."

I breathed through my teeth.

"Fine. You can think of me that way." She swallowed and looked at the damaged skin then reapplied the ice more gently. "I'm sure my parents would agree."

She seemed sad. The blue of her eyes made her seem sadder.

"Well my mother would adopt you, I'm sure. Being as you are so _normal_ and dutiful."

She looked up from her eyelashes. "I'm used to better compliments than that."

I smirked. "It shows."

She shook her head. "Are you not… on good terms with your parents?"

"I don't know. No? It's fine. I'm just not… I don't know."

"Mm." Kaioh put the ice down and started looking at my leg. "I think this is just bruising… and perhaps malnutrition."

"Don't body shame me."

"I'm pretty confident that you don't suffer shame in that area."

I laughed. Then scowled at the impact on my ribs.

"It hurts for a while." She said. "But you'll start to heal faster. It halves and halves…"

"Funny. If you say so."

"I do." She used another towel to mop up the areas where the water had dripped on the ledge, then sat down on the appropriately dry opposing side. "I think that's my room," she pointed to the apartment tower over the way.

"Which?"

"The one with curtains." She said and laughed. "And a fridge, a washer-dryer, and abundance of crockery and linen…"

"Ha-_ha_."

"You should visit sometime. Being as I'm a friendless ice-queen." She flopped her hand at the wrist as though it were a matter of lightness. The fakery on her lips betrayed her.


End file.
